


Caving In

by fandomfluffandfuck



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: (as in Steve feels like he's an annoying needy puppy panting at Bucky's heels y'know), (they have them but I didn't specify them), Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, BDSM, Begging, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Breeding Kink, Bucky's tits, Chastity Device, Choking, Cock Cages, Cock Rings, Cock Slut, Cock Warming, Cock Worship, Collars, Come Inflation, Come Marking, Come Shot, Come Swallowing, Comeplay, Cuddling & Snuggling, Daddy Kink, Desperation Play, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Dom/sub, Dry Humping, Face-Fucking, Fantasizing, Hair-pulling, Horny Steve, Humiliation, Implied Bottom Steve, Implied Top Steve, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Orgasm Denial, Painplay, Pec-Fucking, Pregnancy Kink, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Roughness, Safe Sane and Consensual, Safewords, Sex Toys, Stomach Distention, Teasing, This is just kinky, Top Steve Rogers, VERY Very Light Pet Play, erotic crying, light painplay, okay?, throat-fucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:34:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27907528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandomfluffandfuck/pseuds/fandomfluffandfuck
Summary: Steve is having one hell of a time... a painful, sweet, awful, fantastic time at Bucky's hands, but, he gets an orgasm out of it so he supposes he can't be too upset at himself for letting Bucky turn his brain to mush. He loves it too much.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 16
Kudos: 83





	Caving In

**Author's Note:**

> This is literally just porn. Zero plot is happening here.

Steve fights to open his eyes drunkenly without lifting his head up too much because even though he wants to look up at Daddy he shouldn’t. He’s not supposed to move unless given permission; he feels like he couldn’t move even if he was allowed. He’s not sure, at this point, if moving includes tipping his head up when the only prompt was getting his attention to tell him to open his eyes. He knows the fingers carding through his sex wrecked hair is a beckoning for his eyes to open- nothing else really is in his head. Just that hazy, unverbalized order. 

Well- that and the desperation curling so tightly around him he’s sort of afraid he’s going to die like a mouse to a boa constrictor.  _ What a way to go.  _

He breathes weakly through his nose, sniffling a little because he’s also sort of crying probably, his eyelashes still trying to rise. Faintly he knows there’s drool running down his chin and pooling over both of them- he can feel the filthy, wet mess on his skin. But he doesn’t think much of it, not with the cotton gripping his head and need thundering inside every one of his nerves in a way that blocks all else out and syrup running through his veins, muting every sensation and turning it into a golden haze. He swallows again, sucking faintly even though he probably shouldn’t- just  _ feeling. _ He honestly can’t remember if he’s allowed to suck him right now. It’s too good either way. Daddy tastes  _ so good.  _ He feels good too, Steve thinks mindlessly, reveling in the heavy and hot weight of him between his lips. Inhabiting his mouth and the beginning of his throat, propping his jaw just the right amount of painfully open- keeping his senses stuffed. Daddy’s cock claims the inside of his throat while his collar decorates the outside. Every breath he takes is saturated in Daddy’s scent, every swallow is lined with his pre-cum, every time he finds it in himself to open his eyes all he sees is Bucky, every sound is from him shifting or sighing, every twitch of his cock is sweeter than sin. Everything he knows is Daddy. Daddy… Bucky-

Steve hears Bucky somewhere through the pleasant steam and mist obscuring his world. He blinks. Well, he  _ thinks  _ about blinking. But… he doesn’t  _ see  _ anything. He probably doesn’t blink. Steve swallows thickly, drowning on nothing and everything and sucking softly on Daddy’s cock because he wants to whimper but he knows he can’t with his mouth packed so full. He feels the leather of Daddy’s collar minutely grow tighter when he swallows the pre-cum leaking out of him. All of the sudden he wants Daddy to slide it higher on his neck and then lean his head all the way back so he can feel the leather fight the bulge of Daddy in his throat as he slides all the way into his body. He wants Daddy everywhere inside of him. He wants everything.

“Stevie?” He doesn’t hear his name so much as he  _ feels  _ it in the caress of Bucky’s fingertips to his feverish cheek. There’s some drool even where his fingers pet him, making him messier. Steve shivers, Daddy probably spread his spit all over his own face when he dragged his cock over his face earlier. Slapping his cock over his face in a blatant, fan-fucking-tastic show of ownership as he denied him from sucking him continually. Just teasing instead. Making a show of it as always. Making his cock drip and his balls throb with their fullness- having been denied his release too. 

Even as a little extra bit of his blood flows up to his face rather than joining all the rest that has pooled between his legs his eyes flutter open all of the sudden. The movement coming thoughtlessly. Like magic.  _ Daddy’s magic.  _

A little, compressed, lust soaked sigh escapes from his nose as he looks up. Finally  _ looking.  _ Daddy’s handsome;  _ so  _ handsome. Sitting above him-  _ towering  _ above him. Looking  _ big  _ and untouchable despite the heat of his swollen, throbbing cock sliding in and out of his lips for the past… past- past hour? Day? Year? Steve squirms. His own abandoned cock aches like a cracked tooth. A noise desperate enough to slip out from between the seal he has on Bucky’s cock gets his attention. Daddy smirks, imposing and dominating. He wouldn’t mind sucking Daddy off for a year, getting this view, keeping his cock warm and only stopping to do necessary things that can’t be argued against. Getting a belly from swallowing so much of Daddy’s cum. Messy with his own spit and whatever cum didn’t make it into his belly. Knees aching even with the assistance of the serum. Feeling Daddy’s pulse pound through his cock, drumming over his tongue. His engorged flesh hot and heavy and wonderful- sitting in the throat every hour of every day. 

“Stevie,” Bucky calls again, his voice louder this time. Breaking through the surface of the water that he’s submerged in. Warm and safe. 

Steve blinks lazily at him, he has to use everything he’s got inside him to not just keep his eyes shut, taking him in for the millionth time. Forgetting his own needy urges just in the curve of his jaw, the cut of his cheekbones, the light sheen of sweat over his pale gold skin. His hair isn’t even messed up. Nothing about him is out of place except for maybe the light, barely-there wash of blush high on his cheeks and sweat. But he’s not even sweating like Steve knows he is. He’s melting at Bucky’s feet. Aching and needy, reduced to nothing but a pile of mush just from his cock sliding  _ down, deep  _ into his throat. Keeping him warm while Daddy keeps him as his pet. 

Something of a purr makes its way up from his overheated stomach. Daddy’s hand moves from his cheek to his ear, rubbing and petting the skin behind it. Soothing and humiliating.

“‘M gonna take my cock out a’ ya.” It’s not a question. It’s a warning. 

It doesn’t do anything to stop Steve from whining like a kicked puppy or from chasing his cock with his lips or stop him from panting (again, like a puppy) when he hears the  _ obscene,  _ shockingly wet sound of him slipping out of his mouth. Steve swallows, shoving down more whines and cries for that fucking cock back. His lips feel stretched and his mouth feels empty. He feels incomplete. His tongue searches for the last traces of his taste on his lips, his eyes sliding shut when he can taste him on his lips, memories of being cum on flashing to the surface of his half-online brain. 

Bucky stokes himself once. Making the most of those  _ sounds  _ with his fist over his cock. Groaning when he traces the head of himself. Steve’s mouth floods with more salvia. 

He just laughs, tutting joyfully, “you’re gonna drool even more if you keep that up.” He’s got no idea what Daddy means until his fingers uncurl from around his thick, glistening cock at the same time that his other hand appears from wherever the fuck it was before. The fingers that he was touching himself with slide easily into his open mouth. The other hand lifts his gaping jaw up, closing his mouth around his fingers. Steve sucks  _ worshipfully  _ on those fingers, moaning at the taste even though it’s surely mostly his own saliva anyway. Wetting that  _ gorgeous _ cock. It doesn’t help with his drooling. He doesn’t give a fuck. 

“Talk to me- anything hurts?” Daddy asks, pitching his voice up higher just so that it’s clearer. Not clinging to his deep, rumbly, yummy aroused octave. He pulls his fingers out and takes his other hand away. It doesn’t go far when he starts whimpering- he doesn’t want Daddy to ever stop touching him. Especially not now. That hand lands on his collar. A shadow of the meaning of the leather- reminding him. 

He twitches. Throbbing. Leaking against his own skin and the metal caging his cock.

He slips his fingers under the bottom side of the collar, lifting the leather up and making it tighter all at once. The most effective nonverbal  _ c’mon  _ out there. 

“Achy,” is the only thing that gets out of him. It’s sitting on the tip of his tongue right along with Bucky’s taste because it’s been what he’s got in his head. Bucky’s been asking him if he’s achy since he locked up his cock  _ four days ago.  _ Assuming they’ve not spent an entire day doing  _ this.  _ Then it’d be  _ five  _ days ago. 

He strokes his hand down the broad front of his throat, “what aches, huh?” He shutters, heat coiling like a snake around his ribs and throat, his tongue thickening. That heat doesn’t just take root or home in his body at this point, at this point he  _ is _ heat. He is little scraps of pleasure that really aren’t pleasure unless you look at them from his point of view, when he’s been so deprived. The most he’s gotten as far as selfish pleasure has been the harsh cage pressing against his dripping cock when he twitches. Other than that, any pleasure he’s gotten has been flow-over from Bucky’s selfish pleasure. The half-satisfaction of getting his mouth full, having his throat used from Bucky fucking his throat. The shaky, non-satisfaction of being stretched open but not being allowed to cum; of being fucked but not getting to cum. “Words,” Bucky rumbles, tugging just once on his collar. His heart leaps into an even faster pace. 

His tongue moves clumsily and uselessly in his mouth, making more of his excess saliva drip from the corners of his mouth. His throat feels thick and half-closed. Words.  _ Words. He needs words. What does ache? Why does he hurt?  _

Steve looks up, tilting his head back and feeling the obscene stretch of his throat after he’s been staying in one place, holding Daddy’s cock between his lips… and…  _ oh.  _

“‘M cock,” he whimpers, ignoring the blurring of his vision with unspilled tears and just focusing on Daddy’s face. Finding both comfort and frustration in him. Daddy nods, staying silent. He feels his lower lip start to tremble, sniffling and choking a little with his agony. He tries again, his voice nothing more than a mewl this time,  _ “d-addy! My, my… m’ cock hurts. It hurts!”  _ Wet heat flows down his cheek, a visual representation of what he’s going through,  _ “‘m hole hurts too.”  _ He adds shyly. Daddy grumbles, low and slow in the back of his throat. Steve wants to live in that noise. He wants to roll around in it. He wants to climb up into Daddy’s lap and have him make it again so he can taste it too. He whines. High and thin. Letting the noise stretch out because he doesn’t know what else to do. Shifting because he can’t not. Choking on his gasp when something in his stomach drops, spreading unbearable heat and need through him as his pulse pounds away at his cock. It does  _ hurt.  _ Saying it out loud means he can’t ignore it- and every point of the hurt in his body begs for his attention at once. He’s dizzy with how much it hurts. How good it hurts. How- how… he doesn’t  _ know. He doesn’t.  _

More tears race from his eyes. He shuts them, whining. 

Bucky rubs his fingers along his jaw, turning his face up so he can get a good look at him. Steve feels his gaze. Running over his skin like flames, dancing and licking over him, heating him up so that he goes from a boil to a vapor, making anything sane left in him float away. All he can do is submit. Like he was made to. “Still okay?” Bucky checks in after checking him over. 

His eyes open without his command, staring up at his dom. His Daddy. He doesn’t know exactly- he knows he needs Bucky to decide for him. He can’t choose himself because he can’t honestly think, he can’t do anything. He needs Bucky to decide. 

“You’re okay,” Daddy brushes a kiss over the top of his head, his lips pressing into his hair. His nose brushes his temple as he pulls away, “Daddy gets to cum two more times and then you can have yours. Does that sound nice, doll?” Steve involuntarily moans just at the promise of being able to cum, feeling the phantom sensations claw at him. He remembers what it feels like to cum. He wants to cum. He nods. Pushing his head against the inside of Daddy’s thigh, breathing in his warmth and the smell of his scent. His head swims. 

Daddy chuckles, “cockslut,” he sighs, proud. Loving that he’s already eager to get his mouth back to work. As he weaves his fingers into his hair, using the grip like a leash- Steve bites harshly at the inside of his cheek, fighting the sudden need for him to wail at Bucky and make him get his leash. His mind’s eye fills with honey-coated memory after memory. All the things Bucky has done to him when he’s got his leash are unspeakable. Hot doesn’t come close to touching them. If he thinks about them he might- Steve loses his train of thought, trembling. Getting swept and dunked under the lava Daddy’s drowning him in. Directing him to get back to sucking his cock. 

Steve could ask for nothing more. 

The taste of him on his lips and down his throat makes him whine, sputtering around his jaw-aching girth and gag-reflex-testing length. Daddy is so good at fucking his throat and filling him up that more tears rush out of his eyes, unable to inhabit his body for any longer when Daddy takes up so much of the extra space. More pre-cum dribbles down his shaft, his cock weeping for the sweet agony of him stretching him open. Using him. The weight of him on his tongue floods his mouth with more drool. The smell of him replaces his oxygen. 

The sound of his voice fills his brain, “get to it. Daddy wants to cum down his toy’s throat.” 

Steve goes  _ flying.  _

The sensation of getting to  _ just suck _ while Daddy controls the bobbing of his head by tugging on his hair is  _ too _ good. Completely directing him to do whatever he wants him to. His eyes are not opened or closed- there is nothing in his sight but a sheet of cream, a white void that’s been dipped in honey with how  _ good  _ everything feels.  _ Daddy’s perfect. So good to him.  _

His brain floats from topic to topic. Not stopping to think on one thing for long enough to be coherent with anything at all. Some memories come and go. There are no thought patterns. No ideas. No nothing. 

Just Daddy. 

The longest he’s ever been able to last in a cock cage was six and a half days before he begged and begged Bucky to take it off- his throat had been hoarse by the time Daddy had agreed. But Daddy hadn’t agreed because he’d begged. That’s what their safewords and check-ins are for. Bucky knows he’ll beg until he can’t breathe or physically can’t speak or until he’s blue in the face. He knows how he gets when he hasn’t come. Getting so desperate that he’ll do anything for just a single spark of pleasure. Daddy had let him get off finally because he had been the one to safeword. It was so intense that Steve honestly doesn’t remember it beyond knowing it was amazing. Too pleasurable. After- when they’d slept for at least six hours and then had bathed and gone back to bed to cuddle more Bucky had explained why he had used their safeword. Ending the scene by letting him cum. Saying he had never seen him get so deep and he was honestly not sure Steve was even in his own body anymore, he didn’t think he knew what was going on. He wasn’t sure he could consent to what had been happening- and to be fair, Steve doesn’t remember it being that bad so he was right. Six and a half days is their limit now but… four seems to be the sweet spot. Anything over twenty four hours of not getting to get off is tough for both of them thanks to the serum but, for Steve, once he’s over the hump of forty eight hours it gets good. 

And it’s not like being in a cock cage is punishment for them. 

_ Yes,  _ it fucking  _ sucks  _ to not be able to cum for days on end when normally he can cum over and over and over and over and over and never run out of cum. Never get tired of the pleasure. Never get tired of Bucky- of  _ Daddy.  _ And,  _ yes, _ it makes him want to crawl out of his own skin with his need but it’s so good when he does get to cum. There is nothing like it. Period. Nothing like being denied pleasure because it brings you pleasure when everyone knows that he can have endless pleasure as a fantastic side effect of the serum. It’s a treat. Daddy tells him all of the time how desperate and easy and slutty and melty he gets when he’s horny and how much that increases when he has been denied. He’s more than two handfuls when he hasn’t gotten to cum. He’s hard to control when he’s needy. When he’s desperate. So it can’t happen all of the time… It’s way too intense to happen on the regular. If he got called out to do some avenging when they were in the middle of a scene… well, there’s no way in hell he’d be helpful at all. He’d just be a liability at that point. 

Which is part of the appeal. Denial makes him cut loose like nothing else. It cuts him down to nothing but his most carnal needs. 

Daddy’s voice rings in his ear, a filthy whisper from a very hazy memory- the first time they seriously played with chastity and Steve woke up in the middle of the night so desperate to cum after Bucky fucked him but didn’t let him have his release that he started humping Daddy’s thigh without thinking (really still asleep), without considering that he still had his cock cage on, crying and gasping and writhing so obnoxiously that he woke Daddy up. His voice was dark, thick, and deep with sleep as well as arousal, it made his thighs clench together  _ so  _ hard, “you’re just a bitch in heat. Desperate for anything and anyone. You see anything that looks like a cock and you’re falling to your knees, begging to get it inside either of your slutty holes. Whining and getting dumber for some cock.” Daddy had kissed him, keeping his chin in his hand in a mortifyingly controlling grip all the while, and Steve thought he was going to let him cum. He had kissed him! Sure, his words were devilish but that’s normal for Bucky… all Daddy had done was smack his ass and tell him, “go take a cold shower, slut,” before rolling over to fall back asleep. He hadn’t slept for the rest of the night. He had just drifted and woke himself up with his own sounds and by accidentally rolling over and humping into the mattress. His erection not even coming close to flagging, not with Daddy’s words ringing in his ears. 

He trembles uncontrollably just remembering it. 

He sucks at Daddy harder. Falling into the meditation of pleasing. Sighing with the comfy weight of his Daddy on his tongue, spreading his jaw, splitting his lips, keeping him full and content. He doesn’t know where his legs are or what his hands are doing. All he knows is the heat of him. The ache of his ignored balls and hole and cock fade to a thrumming background noise, like how loud music fades away before the thundering base does. 

Daddy groans loud enough above him to wake him from his slumber, his eyes flickering, letting in a little of the dim light of their living room. He feels sluggish. Like he’s moving through molasses. A shiver travels through Steve’s body when another groan makes its way through his brain, finally being processed, making his insides shake with the intensity. Making his hips accidentally pulse into Daddy’s shin. 

A frantic bolt of need slices through his entire body. It’s blow landing heavily between his legs. Leaving him gasping around the heavenly stretch of Daddy’s cock, making his body move again. Pushing his caged cock into Daddy’s shin. He whimpers. Daddy groans and leaks from the vibrations. He does it again- not hearing any orders from him. More sounds spill from his packed throat, causing saliva to bubble around the seam of his lips and the cock in his mouth, he can feel Daddy’s hair through the gaps in the unforgiving metal and it’s the most action he’s gotten for four days. 

Tears join the pity party he’s having. Right along with more pleasure when Daddy growls and fucks his hips all the way forward. Steve could weep. Inhaling and shutting his eyes, taking in everything he can, as his nose is shoved into Bucky’s pelvis. The patch of groomed hair around the base of his cock pressing into his face like his stubble does just  _ harder.  _

Steve would only pull back to beg and plead for Bucky to fuck him raw. To pound into his throat as hard as he can. He wants it. Bad. 

“Daddy’s gonna cum, honey,” just like the pet name, honey-thick shivers and arousal drip into his veins. He whimpers raggedly. He needs Daddy’s cum. 

It takes him a second to get with it though- beyond the want and compulsion for Daddy’s cum. But he does get it. He stops dragging his caged cock fruitlessly against him and instead leans all of his weight further, smashing his nose into Bucky and trusting the hand in his hair whole-heartedly to pull him off before he suffocates. Blinking his eyes up at Daddy in the way he knows makes him feel like a  _ “bad man” _ with how  _ innocent  _ he looks with his  _ “pretty baby blues”.  _ Daddy grumbles something that has Steve going harder even though he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s said. He’d do anything to please. Anything to keep him in his mouth. 

Daddy pulls him back by the hair - making flames lick up his neck and dance over his scalp - and then pulls him forward. The sounds overwhelm Steve. Making his balls throb and his cock twitch. Even when it’s contained in his cage. It’s so  _ wet.  _ He’s so wet. The smacking of Daddy’s hips into his face is sloppy and messy, the pulling of his cock from his throat and mouth is just as devastatingly wet sounding. Steve hums as much as he can with Daddy so deep in him; he loves being wet for Daddy, it makes him feel like a proper slut. The tears streaming down his cheeks mean nothing to him. He can do nothing to stop them the same way he can do nothing to stop Bucky from fucking the spit out of his mouth. 

Daddy moans. Low and long. 

Steve waits. His gut and hole clenched. His throat continually contracting- he’s helplessly hungry for Daddy. His eyes are open but unseeing with how much wetness is pooled in his eyes from the force of his throat-fucking. 

A cruel moan of his own rips out of him when he feels Daddy fucking  _ explode  _ in his mouth. His cock pulsing and spilling into his mouth. His familiar taste coating his mouth and throat. Steve keeps swallowing and swallowing and swallowing even when he knows Daddy’s done. He wants all of him. He wants to take him deep. He wants his cum in his belly. Filling him up. Biologically he can’t have Daddy’s baby in him but he wants it so bad, especially when he’s strung out like he is now, he wants Daddy’s baby in his belly. Getting him big and heavy and claiming him. He wants Daddy’s help all of the time not just because he wants it but because he needs it. 

If he didn’t so desperately need to cum- if he wasn’t fantasizing about getting to relieve the tightness pulsing in his balls he would gladly kneel at Daddy’s feet and suck and suck and swallow and suck and then swallow even more of him. Swallowing him down until he had had his fill. He wouldn’t have had his fill until his belly was physically full- sticking out and rounding out. As close to having Bucky’s baby as he will get. 

Bucky lets go of his hair. His scalp sings but his heart protests it- he loves the sting too much. His eyes slide shut after briefly flitting open, savoring the fading sensations. 

Bucky grabs his collar pulling him off with a weak moan but a confusingly strong voice, “I know.” He chastises him, trying to catch his breath at the same time, keeping his hold on his collar, reminding him that he’s still got it on after getting so caught up in pleasuring him. He shivers, feeling owned and used in the best fucking way, “you hate having your mouth empty,” he tilts his head up by his chin, fingers coming up to kiss his chin, speaking down to him so easily that it steals his breath. It’s so  _ hot. _ So dominating. So mean.  _ “Poor thing,”  _ Bucky coos. “But Daddy can’t keep his cock in your mouth while he recovers or you’re just gonna keep sucking. And that’s not good.” Steve flushes. His words are a spark to his match. They’re incredibly erotic. Daddy taps his cheek in the mock of a slap, shaking his head, “can’t ever help yourself so Daddy’s gonna have to, ‘kay? Bein’ so nice to you baby.”

He’s drowning in arousal, dying, so he doesn’t instantly answer. He’s too in his head- shivering and curling around the painful shocks of arousal-  _ he needs to cum or he’s gonna explode. _ He needs to cum. Daddy reminds him that the real world does in fact exist with a shake of his head and a tug at his collar. “Yh-yeah.” He offers, half stuttering and half having his words cut in half by the tug at his collar. He winces at the sound of his own voice while his cock pulses at it. He sounds fucked  _ raw. _

Daddy smirks, but stays otherwise seemingly unaffected. “What was that?” He asks, leaning back. Letting go of his chin but sliding his fingers that are under the cover of his collar at the nape of his neck around to the front so he can still keep a hand on him while he sinks into the couch. He follows Daddy’s grip. Eyelids fluttering while his eyes roll to the back of his head. More pre-cum leaking and drips down his purple cock, he whimpers, hoping that there’s a puddle of it on the floor under him and not because it’s so wonderfully hot and embarrassing when Daddy makes him lick up his mess, but also that would just drag this out. Steve wants to cum. He needs to cum. Soon. 

Steve tries to speak and mewls pathetically, failing with actual words. He clears his throat, savoring the burn deep in his throat that’s brought out, reigniting the fire there, “tha-thank you, Daddy.” Bucky shifts, obviously wanting more, “thank y-you, for, uhm, helping me be good.” 

He shows his acceptance with a curt, “you’re welcome,  _ slut.” _ Steve shivers uncontrollably. His breathing speeding back up even though they're doing nothing but talking and he’s doing nothing but sitting. He shivers even more when Bucky pats his lap, a clear sign that he wants to cuddle, wants to hold him close. Right now any kind of body heat is suggestive, exciting, and sexy. A cold breeze would ruffle his feathers. But he obeys. He always does, Daddy may make him say it all the time to embarrass him but it’s true  _ Daddy takes such good care of him.  _ He’d do more than anything for Bucky. This isn’t even a fraction as bad as the things he would do for him or than the things that he actually  _ has  _ done for him. 

With his knees under himself already it doesn’t take Steve long to get himself up onto the couch rather than at Daddy’s feet like his damn pet dog.  _ (Not that Steve doesn’t love being his pet - a lot of the time that’s all he wants - but he does love being close to daddy too.) _ Daddy moves him where he wants him once he has him in his lap. Curling him into a little ball as he gets him onto his side, his hands curling into his throat with his fingers creeping into hook his collar like a child grasping a baby blanket, his knees tucking into his chest. His face is facing Daddy’s stomach and still hard cock. Inches from his mouth. He’s not even started to soften yet… it takes a while with how large he is. 

_ “Ah-ah,” _ Daddy tuts at him, forcing him to realize his mouth has fallen back open and is watering. He’s already drooling a little. Daddy straightens his collar and pets his hair back from his forehead, “be good for me. Yeah?” His voice is back to his regular tone, none of his  _ Daddy register  _ in sight. Steve knows not to be fooled, when his cock is locked up they’re always in the scene. Unless, of course, they’re taking a break to clarify limits and safewords. 

Bucky’s fingers never pause in his hair the entire time they sit like that together, they just keep dragging back through his sweaty, tangled hair before coming right back up to his hairline. Going back and forth. Back and forth. 

Back and forth even when Bucky drags him forward by the collar, jostling him a little, causing his top leg to fall off of his bottom, crossing his thighs and trapping his swollen balls painfully between them. Steve mewls and sobs a little. Again letting his body be rearranged by his Daddy, letting him soothe and literally rock him back and forth. Allowing himself to be soothed because he’s not honestly sure if left alone he would’ve gotten through that on his own or if he would’ve sobbed himself into a fit or, more likely, he would’ve orgasmed dry. Bucky coos and rocks him until he’s still sort of crying but otherwise okay because he can’t really stop when Daddy’s cock is  _ right there  _ and nothing else is happening. When he’s not getting any pleasure or getting to please. 

Then Daddy hums and tells him, “get back to it, doll.” Giving him free range. Well. Free range over getting him back into his mouth at least. A golden invitation. 

Steve opens his mouth to take Daddy in and whines, making him chuckle and say something that’s probably “slut”, but he can’t think about it for too long. No. He’s too consumed in Daddy. 

Too consumed in the rare commodity of having Daddy in his mouth and  _ soft.  _ Normally he’s not allowed to suck him until he’s at least half hard because of the sensitivity the serum gave them both. Now he’s not anywhere near hard. He’s fully soft and smooth. It’s so head-spinning and wonderful and overwhelming that Steve doesn’t know what to do with himself, tugging at his own collar and shivering and squirming a little. He wants to touch Daddy. He wants to tug and pull and push and feel Daddy while he gets him hard but he’s not sure if the no touching rule still stands. He sinks as far down as he can when he’s one, sideways and two, still soft. Savoring the little less mouth and throatful that he proves to be when like this. Rubbing his tongue over and down and around any part of him that he can get. The skin of Daddy’s cock is always soft and velvety but it’s a whole ‘nother level like this. His eyes are shut against the brilliance of it, suckling on him, his mind tearing between desperately wanting him to get hard again and wanting him to stay like this forever. It’s so different. And so good. 

It doesn’t matter though. 

Because Daddy sighs and strokes his metal hand through his hair, using the other to stroke down his exposed side… going lower and lower. Lower until he’s stroking over his hole. 

Steve gasps, suckling harder at Daddy’s cock. Which twitches, trying to fill again- he’s pretty sure his hole twitches in response because he’s that tied to his Daddy. He pushes his hips back farther, unable to control or stop himself. Seeking more touches. More pleasure that leads to nowhere but sweet, sweet agony because of the lack of release. There is no end to the pooling of pleasure in his body, it just runs deeper and deeper into his flesh. Infecting all of him and still finding new places to hide somehow. Daddy’s warm, teasing finger circles his hole endlessly. Pulling his blood towards his cunt and making his cock weep, his balls throb. 

Daddy’s hardening in slow motion in his mouth.

The feeling of it has him paying less and less attention to the touches over his own body. They feel far away compared to the pulses and throbs of blood rushing into Daddy’s cock, hardening him, heating his skin, stretching Steve’s mouth wider and wider minutely with the thickening of him. His arousal becoming more and more apparent by the moment. More drool escapes his mouth as it’s forced wider. Steve cannot keep his noises to himself. Whines and moans pour out of him, bubbling up from his chest and seeping out between his lips and Bucky. 

Bucky hums and sighs in one, the two noises rolled into one that’s simply soft pleasure. Steve barely hears it above the pounding of blood in his own ears and he barely cares when he can feel Bucky’s pulse racing in his cock. Throbbing full force now. 

It feels like two seconds of sucking Daddy’s soft cock gets him hot again and it makes him feel like a good slut. Pleasing him so easily. 

But it certainly had to have been a lot longer than those couple of seconds because when Daddy tells him, “off,” and takes his hands from his body and Steve’s eyes flick open on their own violation they see a different story then when they closed. Daddy’s face is shiny with sweat, glowing and catching the lacking light in the room. It’s evening outside. The sun has begun to set. Steve also realizes that his jaw aches fiercely, it’s been so long. His jaw cracks when he shuts it then again when he goes to open his mouth after. Daddy pets the hinge of his jaw. Making some delicious noise in the back of his throat. His eyes flutter, watching Daddy’s cock jump. He’s back to being rock hard. 

He swallows. Hazily trying to figure out what Daddy has planned for him. Daddy was playing with his hole… is he going to fuck him? Steve whines slightly. Unsure even himself if he does or doesn’t want that. He does know that Daddy’s cock looks  _ so good. _ And he does want it back inside of him - his mouth or his cunt - but they also know that when he’s been locked up and then gets fucked it goes one of two ways… either he can’t handle it because it’s so, so much stimulation - all that pleasure from having his prostate touched - and he has to tap out or he loves it and literally lasts less than two seconds, being too sensitive to stop himself from falling over the edge. Steve falls from the thoughts- Daddy will choose and Daddy knows best. So what does it matter? His muscles go lax. 

His jaw may hurt but it’s nothing compared to the ache of his cock, his hole, and his balls. If he could isolate them to individual hurts he’s sure even then that they would each hurt more than his jaw does. Which isn’t to say his jaw hurts. Everything hurts. Everything’s good. Everything inside him is begging him to get to cum- to get release. 

“Do you think you can walk, sweetheart?” Daddy asks, one hand idly stroking his cock where it rests against his abs. His skin gleaming and calling to him because he wants to keep sucking him off but also because his own cock is jealous. He wants out of his cage and into Daddy’s hand. Hell- he’ll take his own hand gladly. He’ll get back onto his knees and he’ll take Daddy’s shin against him. He. Will. Take. Anything. He’s so desperate at this point. 

It takes him an embarrassingly long time to respond and when he does it’s not even like he can make words happen. He just shrugs and nuzzles into Daddy’s hip, letting his cock rest against his face as he does it even though he’s all messy with his own drool. He doesn’t care. Daddy hums thoughtfully, “you have been real good…” he drags it out, settling the considering words over both of them. Making it sound like even he doesn’t know which way he’ll go with it. Steve doesn’t care, he lets himself drift. Daddy will choose; and he’ll do whatever he wants. 

Steve gasps, his sound turning into a bit of a whine when he’s not only moved but moved away from Daddy’s hip. Daddy smells so good though. He tastes good too. Feels good. Looks good. He doesn’t want to not touch him. He wants-

“Shhh,” Bucky coos at him, his voice thickening and darkening into a warning as he says, “gonna take you to the bedroom.” Steve nods even though Daddy doesn’t need his input. He’s just getting carried, going limp and letting the gold behind his eyes cover his skin. Lulling him deeper. Tugging him down into that place where pain means nothing but pleasure and everything bleeds into each other like wet paint dripping down walls. He twitches, feeling some of that indescribable pleasure-pain drip down into his belly, just above his cock. He doesn’t know anything but the sweet, hurtful ache of his body. Everything inside of him is one thing. One need. He is nothing. Daddy is everything. 

Daddy sets him on the bed. 

Steve tosses his head to the side, trying to get his eyes to open and then trying to get them to focus on Bucky. At first he’s just standing. Then he’s moving. 

He walks around their bedroom while Steve melts into the bedsheets, making a mess of them with his sweat and precum and his entire melting frame, but Daddy doesn’t say anything about it so it doesn’t matter. He can feel his pulse more between his legs then he can in his actual chest. His fingers and toes and head are filled with cotton. Blotting out everything else except for the instinctual pull he feels for Bucky. 

He’s not even sure if he’s breathing or still living. He just knows that he feels  _ good.  _ He feels so good, his mind does. His body is begging to pull the trigger. If Daddy unlocked his cage and said the word… he would follow orders. He could, he’s got so much pleasure stockpiled inside him that with one word of permission he could let it all go. 

Daddy comes back. His weight dipping the mattress and pushing him around like a doll. Arranging him however he pleases. He’s warm. Steve doesn’t bother to open his eyes. It’s too much work for something that’s not necessary because Daddy didn’t say to do it. 

He gets moved to the center of the mattress, he’s left on his back but Bucky moves his hands from lying limply at his sides to being in the center of his chest. Not crossing them over each other like they do to lay people to rest but side by side. His finger falling over his traps and brushing the side of his throat. A couple of his fingertips brush the worn in, well loved leather of his collar. He shivers lazily. Mostly it’s an internal shiver. He doesn’t really move all that much. 

His hands leave. Steve whines.

“Just getting something, doll, still right here,” he whispers, his voice rough and low. His eyes open, just half way, seeking his face. He is right there. Steve doesn’t shut his eyes, he watches, meditative. Watching Daddy hold up a pair of handcuffs, looking at him neutrally. Steve nods, unthinking. He loves those. How Bucky got them- he’s got no idea and he’s not going to ask because he knows they’re Wakandan tech and he also knows they’re very obviously for sex. Some kind of material that looks just like the leather of his collar but is unbreakable. Even for both of them. 

Daddy cuffs his wrists. 

Daddy holds up a cockring and Steve whines, he wants to cum and he wants Daddy to cum. He doesn’t-

“Two.” Daddy reminds him, tracing his jaw. Daddy needs to cum again before he can so it must be for him. He nods lazily, mouthing  _ “please”  _ on account of his rapidly drying throat and mouth. If Daddy needs him to be out of his cage then… then? Then he’s going to be teased for sure, he thinks vaguely. He can’t remember the thought he had just seconds ago. It doesn’t matter though, Daddy’s talking to him again, “I hope you’re not too gone on me-” he flushes hot with embarrassment, “‘cause I need something from you still.” The hands on his face suddenly don’t feel soft and caressing, now they feel like they’re holding him in place. Keeping him where he’s supposed to feel. His insides ache like a raw nerve. He swallows. 

“You’re gonna fuck me,” Daddy tells him. 

Steve moans, something shaking loose in his chest.  _ Fuck, yes please,  _ he thinks desperately, he’s ready to drool over Daddy’s cock and beg to get to put his fingers in him. Fucking Daddy means he’ll cum and then he’ll get to cum after.  _ Maybe Daddy will let him cum inside of him.  _ Normally he doesn’t get to because Daddy’s sensitive and doesn’t like to be fucked after he’s cum. He’s apparently just _ “not as hungry for cock,”  _ as he is, in that crude way he tends to put it, he doesn’t like being fucked to an orgasm and then fucked through several more until he can’t stand it. Until he’s sobbing and begging for both more and for it to stop. He’s not as much of a slut as he is. He’s nowhere near it. Daddy always tells him he’s the biggest slut with the greediest cunt and it always makes him  _ ache. It makes him want it even more. _

He wants  _ everything  _ right now. Greedy isn’t a desperate enough or big enough word to describe what’s going on in his head. 

Then Steve’s world narrows to a single noise. The sound of the keys to his cock cage jingling. They’re somewhere beyond his line of sight and he doesn’t bother to go looking for them even though he would do anything to have his cock freed. He’s so caught up that he’s not even worrying about how the fuck he’ll fuck Daddy without just instantly cumming when he feels the heat of him- well, realistically, if he’s freed with nothing to reel him in he knows he’s going to cum before that. He might cum just from the feeling of the cage being taken off of him. He waits for the agony, pleasure, and overwhelming brilliance of his cock being freed. 

His worlds ruptures. 

Exploding around him like opening black-out curtains in the morning. Everything that was behind those curtains rushing in and blinding him. Brightening and hurting wonderfully. Even more blood  _ rushes  _ into his cock and balls and even more pre-cum  _ pours  _ out of him without the constriction of the toy. He _ wails, _ choking on the noise with the heavy, needy breaths punched out of him.

He can  _ taste _ the possible orgasm on the tip of his tongue. It’s barreling toward him. Readying to hit him like a fucking train. He can feel the teasing ecstasy pulling at him, blurring the edges of his vision, begging him to let go and fall into his release. He grits his teeth, whimpering and mewling the whole time - between every sipped in breath - as he barely clings to the edge of the cliff. HIs fingernails digging in and being shredded with how much force it takes to keep himself from his impending orgasm. Daddy’s mumbling encouragement to him all the while but it is just white noise in the background because he’s already feeling and hearing too much. Daddy keeps feeling him up all the while to make sure he’s not in danger of having any serious damage caused to him from the cage but all it feels like to Steve is pleasure. His fingertips searching his shaft and balls and tracing invisible lines down his anatomy in a way that feels like he’s branding him. Writing his name on his dick because  _ goddamn  _ does Daddy own him. His cock. 

Everything rushes into his cock and balls now that there’s nothing in the way and Steve whimpers, thrashing, he can  _ feel  _ swelling him even more. Pent up cum and blood making him harder and harder and harder. He’s going to  _ die. He’s so desperate. He needs it so much. He doesn’t just want it anymore. He needs it.  _

His tears become accompanied by  _ sobs _ and those sobs - the kind that shake his entire body and echo around the room with their volume - are accompanied by a runny nose. All of his body letting go of everything that it can.  _ If he can’t cum he’s going to sob and cry and whine and scream.  _ His balls  _ throb.  _ His cock  _ aches.  _ He feels so much that he’s not sure if he’s feeling anything at all. Everything is flattening into heavenly misery.

Daddy slides a cock ring onto him. 

Tears slip into his open mouth, which hasn’t closed in what’s felt like years, flooding his mouth like saliva. He chokes on those tears, drool pooling in and falling from the corners of his mouth. His lips are trembling. He’s sweating everywhere in a way that he hasn’t felt since he had scarlet fever in his last life time. Trembling like his nerves are as shot to shit as they should be for his actual age. He doesn’t know how to describe the noises that he can hear over the pounding in his own ears- he just knows they’re  _ begging.  _

He feels so stuffed full of  _ denial _ and  _ pleasure _ and  _ agony _ that he’s tearing apart at the seams. Ripping apart with his need. His desperation clawing at his insides to get out like a ravenous, trapped animal. 

“Stevie,” Bucky offers, breaking through his atmosphere of torture. Steve whimpers his response, trying and failing to open his eyes. “Too much?” He asks. 

_ “Nno!” _

The word cuts out of him so fast that it even surprises himself. Shredding his already wrecked throat. He’s still trembling and crying and leaking and aching and a million other things that have become an unbearable, inseparable cacophony inside of him. A cacophony that he doesn’t want to stop. Not until he’s been good. He needs to- to… to be good for Daddy. 

“Tell me about it, then,” he says. 

“Hurtsss,” he whines. The word turning into just a whine rather then something that actually has meaning; he’s not thinking about anything, let alone how that sounds until Daddy shifts, his fingers already coming up to his cuffs like he plans to loosen them or take them off. Steve squirms, shifting his weight from side to side. He doesn’t  _ want  _ Daddy to take away the cuffs, his collar, or the cock ring or anything. Tears keep sliding out of his eyes, “w’nna fuck you, pl-please? Pluh- _ please? Please? Please?” _ He starts rambling. Unable to stop himself unless it’s to heave in a broken gasp of air. He wants to fuck Daddy. He wants Daddy to cum on his cock so he can cum. He doesn’t want to safeword out. He doesn’t want to cum unless he’s been good. 

Daddy’s hand squeezes at his thigh, harsh and meant for getting his attention by cutting him off, “open your eyes first.” 

Steve squirms extra hard, he whines, ducking his chin. He can move but his body is just doing whatever it decides it wants to, not what he wants it to, he’s too strung out for it to follow his instructions. He’s  _ trying. He’s trying so fucking hard.  _

He hears the soft sound of Daddy’s mouth opening and Steve feels it in his bones that Bucky is going to call this off because he can’t just do this simple task and the full blown  _ fear  _ of that possibility is what does it. His eyes fly open.

Daddy’s hovering above him, staring down with clear concern while desire wars inside his eyes. His eyes are barely blue anymore- mostly black now. His lower lip is trapped between his teeth and Steve wants  _ that.  _ He wants Daddy to bite him. To claim him. He wants-

“Good boy,” Daddy rumbles, blowing out a relieved breath. Both make his body sing, pleasure dripping down his veins and fitting into the tiny, miniscule amount of space he has left inside of himself for arousal. He can’t get any hotter. The relieved breath sounds like heavens bells to him- Daddy didn’t want to stop either, Daddy thinks he’s good and  _ likes  _ it. He likes seeing him like this. He does.  _ He does.  _ Steve clings to that notion like a life preserver. It’s not like he doesn’t know Daddy loves to have him like this but he forgets it sometimes… that he’s not just doing this for him because he gets off on it and Daddy gets off on getting him off. 

Wordlessly Bucky flips them over getting Steve on top of him. Letting his tears and pre-cum drip off of him and make a mess on his gorgeous, shimmering body. If not already weeping Steve surely would start at that. 

His eyes have slipped shut again, being shoved and pulled around like he’s five four and one hundred and three pounds all over again, and he’s not sure if it’s allowed but he can’t just open them up again. So he shoves his face in Daddy’s neck in a makeshift apology. Whimpering and nuzzling into the inviting, feverish skin. But he isn’t having it. He just picks him up _single handedly,_ shoving at his shoulder, and uses his other to arrange his cuffed arms where he wants him. Which is apparently over his head, making them into a ring around Daddy’s neck and forcing him to stay close and so it’s only logical to just let his head drop right back down into that junction. It would be stupid of him not to take the opportunity to melt down onto him. Their skin sticks together with the sweat pouring off of both of them. 

The naked, hard, strong muscles of Bucky’s arms and chest and abs move- rippling under him. Steve groans at the feeling. It’s no wonder Daddy can just do whatever he pleases with him, with such huge muscles.  _ Daddy’s so strong,  _ he thinks stupidly, drunkenly. 

Or,  _ well, _ he thinks he thinks that but the vibrating chuckle bubbling up from Daddy’s chest makes him know that he didn’t only think it. So does the smirk pressed against the top of his head. He said that out loud accidentally with how far strung out he is. He’s surprised it hasn’t been happening more, or, at least more to his knowledge. 

“I’ll get you ready and then you haveta do the rest of the work,” Bucky tells him. Orders him. Pressing the words into his hair, being evilly sweet which should be comforting but it’s not very because Steve knows it’s only because he’s, once again, about to get real mean. He twitches in anticipation. A pathetic noise dripping from his gaped, wet mouth. He loves a mean Daddy. 

That pathetic noise gets pushed into something about a million more times embarrassing because then Daddy’s fist, somehow coated in lube, is wrapping around his cock. Choking the wet, throbbing flesh in his hand. He feels like there’s a fist around his throat as well. 

Steve sobs. 

His sounds turn from just desperate to carnally desperate. Animalistic even. 

There are no words that can describe the sounds or feelings that are inside of him. Inhabiting him and taking control of his nervous system and brain like an infection. A virus. Puppeting him. Making his hips thrust down into the clench of his fist, whimpering and mewling and clawing at anything he can reach when he’s cuffed. He can’t do anything really. He’s so hypersensitive by this point that he can feel  _ everything.  _ He can feel every ridge and fold on Daddy’s hands and he can feel every pulse of every flying to his muscles to make him move recklessly. He can feel the rivulets of sweat rolling down his back. He can feel the  _ pleasure,  _ once more muted because of the restrictive toy but no less tolerable, wrapping around his head like a crown. It’s so much feeling that he cannot recall having ever felt anything else. 

He is allowed to savor the intense feelings for exactly no fucking time at all. And for all of the time in the fucking world. There is nothing and there is everything. He is dizzy with it. 

Daddy’s lube slick fist is going away after one more stroke and he’s tipping his head into Bucky’s neck petulantly, barely containing himself from biting him because that would be a  _ mistake  _ as he makes sounds that sound more like a hurt animal made them and less like a human person made them. He’s going fucking insane. He  _ is  _ insane. He’s so caught up in the lack of pleasure and the denial he’s again being subjected to once more that he doesn’t stop to think when the fuck Daddy opened himself up. 

All he knows is that Daddy is looking at him expectedly  and when did his eyes open again?  and he’s not touching him anymore. His legs are spread out to the side. A literal open invitation. Nothing screams  _ fuck me, like I told you to  _ if the look in his eyes currently doesn’t. Nothing screams  _ I have you wrapped around my finger  _ if Daddy doesn’t. Nothing screams  _ dominance  _ if Bucky doesn’t. 

Steve whimpers shrilly. He doesn’t know what to do. He can’t guide his own cock into Daddy- his hands are  _ actually _ tied. He can’t get his own arms under him to position himself the way he normally would when he fucks Daddy because again, he can’t use his hands. He can’t do  _ anything  _ like this. He’s so  _ helpless.  _ So at Daddy’s mercy. 

He swallows thickly, pushing down the more pathetic noises that want to come up out of him with all of the arousal and frustration mixing into a deadly concoction inside of him. 

Bucky clicks his tongue at him and smacks him on the ass when he just keeps whimpering. The smack is  _ hard.  _ His ass stings gloriously and the hit forces a gasp from his lips. He can  _ feel  _ the way the impact makes his body jiggle- he moans. His skin buzzes in its wake, surely skipping from turning red and going right to turning a bruised purple with the force of it. It makes his mind melt, as do his words, “get to it, slut, you’ve fucked enough people to know how this goes.” His skin feels too tight for his body. He shakes in place. His muscles ready to give out at a single moment's notice. Another moan is torn out of his chest as he casually asserts,  _ “I’m waiting.”  _ Daddy might as well be looking down at his wristwatch and tapping his foot with how certainly unaffected he sounds. Lava flows through him, hot and thick.

For the first time of the night he feels  _ nothing _ but  _ used.  _ His body is so tired. He’s being pushed and pushed to his limits, he’s finding new limits. New sensations of pleasure so intertwined with pain that he’s not sure they can be separated or that they exist without the other.

And it’s  **glorious.**

He lunges into it anyway because Daddy told him to and because fuck the way his muscles are screaming at him, he doesn’t care about the logistics piling up against him. He’s  _ hungry. _ He wants this. He’s never desired anything more in his goddamn life that it’s like there’s an animal inside of him, clawing and scratching and shredding his insides and it fucking hurts to not go with it. To not chase his primal needs and wants. He cannot fight the tide. Not when the tide promises release in the form of getting Daddy off and then getting to spill everything inside of him. 

His hips piston forward blindly, trying his damndest to line himself up with Daddy’s hole and also just doing it because it’s like scratching an itch. He needs it. If he can’t get pleasure he’ll please. 

Steve starts and he can’t stop. 

He just keeping fucking forward even though he’s not making any progress, he’s just humping Bucky at this point, his cock isn’t even hitting his rim anymore. He’s crying like he’s never cried before, tears dripping down his face to his jaw and neck, sniffling and sobbing and choking the whole time. The tip of his cock isn’t even getting partially stuck on his entrance now - stretching open his rim in a tease and making him groan - like it was when Daddy set this up, he's just wetting the valley between his cheeks. Spreading lube over his most intimate, sensitive skin rather than sliding into him and spreading him open. He’s just fucking his ass. Not actually fucking him. Broken whimpers keep pouring out of him and he can’t stop them in the same way he can’t stop his hips. He can’t stop the gushing tears either. He’s lost his finesse and is just an animal now. Wild and unthinking, just searching for what feels good. 

Shame burns hot and heavy inside of him, weighing him down and making him want to just lay atop him and  _ plead _ and  _ beg- _ he can’t even fuck Daddy without his help. Without his assistance.

_ He needs Daddy. Daddy has to help him, _ he thinks pathetically.

Daddy doesn’t help him yet, he leaves him to his peril, he leaves him to his embarrassment and shame. Making his cock somehow fucking harden even fucking more. He feels just as cock-drunk and dumb as Daddy always teases him for being, for getting. He feels like Daddy’s fucked him through six rounds and he’s nearly blacking out but he still has the edge of desperately needing to cum like it’s the first time Daddy’s sliding into him. He doesn’t understand how he can take any more of this teasing, he doesn’t know what inside of him is still fighting… He loves it though. He loves the burn of all those pathetic feelings in his head and heart that just drive him forward again because somehow those feelings are boiling down into pure lust. They’re making him sob with all of his heart again. Crying harder than he can ever remember. So close but so far. So close to getting to fuck him finally. So close to getting his release… but… but he can’t get there on his own. 

The last shred of resistance inside of him, that he didn’t even realize was still there,  _ snaps.  _

Then his loose lips are spilling over with sloppy words, pleads, and sounds that don’t register in his own head, they fly over him, unable to touch him. Leaving him to drown in his lust and need. He begs with everything boiling up in him and filling his body like a hollow mold. Fire and lava creep up the last of his untouched flesh, making eyes at him and melting him into nothing but ravenous, pure, uncontrollable lust in a human form. He’s not sure what he’s saying, it’s just his slushy consciousness falling from his lips, but he knows that Daddy can make sense of it; he always knows what he needs. Even before he himself does. He’ll know. Daddy can help.  _ Daddy can help because he can’t help himself.  _

Daddy says something. 

He brushes his hair back from his face, soothing it back and making it stay there because he’s sweating that much. Daddy says something else, he asks a question- something inside of him that’s always been tied to him knows that he’s asking if he wants help, even if he can’t hear him over his own sounds. Steve nods desperately, collapsing even further into him, abandoning even remotely trying to hold himself up as much as he can for the time being; he lets his tears, hot and wanting, brand his skin as they slide down his cheeks and into the hollow of his throat. His chest is heaving so hard that it’s hitting Daddy’s with every ragged inhale. He needs help. Daddy has to help him. 

Bucky pets his hip for just a second and he mewls in response, throwing his hips forward once more. Daddy chuckles, taps his hip again and then wraps that hand around his cock. Steve  _ chokes.  _ Daddy laughs. And the sound drips into Steve’s ears and down his spine, he twitches in his grip, which makes him coo at him as if he’s something pathetic to be looked after. Another wave of heat crashes over his body, he’s crumbled on a beach, his body being battered with wave after wave. Suddenly he understands much more clearly how erosion works. He is nothing but what those waves have left behind- his basic instincts. 

His cock, heavy, dripping, and choked to keep him on the edge is guided straight to Daddy’s hole. He makes it look so easy that Steve wants to laugh at himself. Or cry. Well. He’s already crying so he keeps crying. Daddy’s so  _ wet  _ and so  _ hot.  _

Another hand smacks his flank like he’s a disobedient pony and he’s pushing into him.

He might faint. His eyes roll all the way back in his head, his lips drop wide open. Daddy’s so  _ tight.  _

His vision swims, black and grey and explosively shiny with the lack of blood flow going anywhere but his brain. He must make some noise that will make him blush up a storm later when Bucky decides to try and describe it to him after this but his ears are whited out for now. His senses are all stuffed. Keeping him from knowing anything except the endless, perfect  _ puuuuush  _ into Daddy. 

Another slap is administered to his ass, right over where the first one was and Steve’s head is cleared with the pain and what should be satisfying pleasure. But he’s  _ still _ in his cock ring. So it’s not. The tingling, sharp feeling of the slap stops his ears from ringing and pounding and clears his vision for long enough to see and hear Daddy’s reaction to his twitching inside of him. He groans, breathy but unfairly low at the same time. His mouth doesn’t fall open but it goes deliciously lax as his unbearably erotic noises escape. His eyes shut and his brows come together. Painting a vision of ecstasy over his handsome features. 

Steve whines. Daddy looks like he’s having  _ such  _ a good time. Like he’s getting his pleasure. Jealousy doesn’t even come over his horizon, no, it’s just determination. He needs to please Daddy. Then he can get his. 

He realizes his mouth is open because more salt from his running nose and tears slip into his mouth, getting on his tongue. He’s a fucking mess. 

Daddy growls, rough and gorgeously hot,  _ “c’mon.”  _

His wrists twinge as he tries to get his elbows under him, he gasps at the feeling as his eyelashes flutter. He does like a bit of pain. His wrists are tied to each other under the arch of Bucky’s attractive throat and his shoulders are so fantastically wide that it’s difficult for him to not pull harshly at the cuffs. But. If he doesn’t pull at them and make buzzes of pain go through his own wrists then he won’t be able to get up and please Daddy. A strangely clear thought passes through his head as he struggles,  _ Bucky is so fucking smart, goddamn.  _ He’s the perfect, evil mastermind for this. Making him work so hard to please him because he knows he loves it. Wrecking him without batting an eye. 

With his elbows under him, pain intoxicating him more and more by the moment, he twists and fights until his legs want to work again, spreading to the side so that he can get his knees under his own weight without pulling himself from Daddy’s body but not far enough that he falls flat into his impressive frame. He feels so, so good. Hot and tight and wet and the perfect home for him. Keeping him  _ hot  _ and  _ so so fucking hard,  _ yes, but also  _ safe.  _ He’s amazing, unspeakably the best. 

Then.

It’s done. 

And it takes him a couple of pleasure-drunk moments to understand that he’s got himself ready to fuck Daddy. Swimming through syrupy, thick air and arousal. Scarcely breathing, just sipping in lungfuls of air. His hips then twitch on their own, making him realize. He moans and starts pleading for permission even though he technically already has it. He wants to hear it again. He wants to hear it with his body in position and lube dripping from the base of his cock where they’re attached. 

“Faster you get me to cum, the faster I’ll get to unlocking that slutty cock, doll.” He offers beautifully and squeezes the swell of his hip meanly, “know why?” He questions, looking stupidly put together for having a cock inside of him. Anytime Steve has anything in him he’s drooling. Bucky’s only cracks are in how widely blown his eyes are and in the sweat clinging to his skin, making his forehead and high cheekbones shine entrancingly. 

Steve’s words fall from his raw-bitten lips before his brain even processes Daddy’s words, _“‘cause it’s yours.”_ The sentiment is so ingrained in him that he doesn’t even think about it. It’s already on the tip of his tongue. He mewls, panting and tipping his hips back to start trying to slide out of him. 

“That’s right,” Daddy smirks crudely, “it’s  _ my  _ cock. And right now I want that cock to fuck me…” Steve shivers uncontrollably. His hips twitching enough to make his voice break and lower dangerously,  _ “get to it.”  _

That phrase,  _ get to it,  _ echoes inside his head like a gunshot- ringing through his ears and pushing him off of his feet. And it’s then the simplest thing Steve has ever come across, it’s all he knows, he needs to  _ get to it.  _ As soon as the words are done rattling him he’s getting to work. He needs to fuck Daddy, he needs to put in his work. 

So he does. 

He keens while he pulls out again and nearly screams as he pushes forward. Thrusting in and out. Then giving up on being controlled and just fucking his hips forward the moment after he pulls his hips back enough to and crying out at the all consuming feeling. He knows how Daddy likes it but he  _ can’t.  _ He can’t control himself against the tight, hot, wet squeeze of his body, he just knows he needs to fuck him and that’s all. He’s not thinking about how fast or slow or shallow or deep he should be going. He’s just chasing the primal call of his body, obeying Daddy and the animalistic howling in his own chest that’s deciding the pace. It’s unbearably good. His tears keep falling, never having had the chance to quit, there’s too much going on for them to stop. Overwhelmed. He can’t do anything. He’s just along for the ride. Listening to what his Daddy and his body says. Tuning out everything else. 

Throwing himself in and not even thinking to look back once. 

His body follows orders in thrashing waves, rolling his hips back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. Fire burning down his spine. Melting his skin and making him shutter and twitch and tremble. His brain has whited out completely with the hot, pulsing pleasure. Too much but literally not enough. The cock ring keeps him within Daddy’s orders, keeping him from cumming. Denying him his pleasure. 

The haze of it all surrounds everything  _ but  _ Daddy. Daddy is in HD, right there in front of him. Enjoying himself. Moaning and groaning and growling and occasionally telling him he’s doing good or he’s so good or he’s a slut or  _ anything.  _ Most of his words fade away before Steve’s hazy, melted brain can wrestle them down into meaning. Daddy’s reactions are the only thing driving him. So much so that he’s not sure if he’s still gasping in response to the  _ too much, not enough  _ feeling that bites everything thrust- whether it’s in or out. He can’t tell what it feels like for him beyond non denominational heat and pleasure, taking up his unconscious mind while Daddy fills the conscious part of his mind. Daddy is all that matters.

He keeps going. Paying no mind to what it’s doing to him. The exquisite pain and pleasure. Torturing him with being so close and so far. 

It feels like his body is just a cup, full to the brim with liquid pleasure, and then someone has come along with a dropper to add drops of more pleasure. Testing the limits of how much he really can hold, forcing the surface tension to work as hard as possible, straining to keep him from spilling over. He’s not sure how much longer he’s going to be able to hold on. 

Daddy’s strong arms pull him in  _ close.  _

One hand going to his shoulder and the other to his collar. Getting them face to face as they already were but even closer, inseparable, panting into each other’s mouths, sharing air and saliva. Breathing each other in. Possessive and hungry. More than a little desperate too. Steve can see every shade and wash of pleasure over his face; he’s so handsome, so irresistible, so entrancing and enthralling. Just looking at him makes Steve’s cock ache full force again - becoming the main focus for a moment with it’s all encompassing need - the look of pure pleasure over his face making him ache even more. Even worse. Making him want it. Making him pay attention to his own pleasure and pain and  _ denial. _ He wants to cum. His lower lip trembles so intensely that it feels like his entire lower jaw is shaking. He mewls into Bucky’s mouth, begging hopelessly with his sounds, sounds that are mostly broken or bitten off because of the choking hold on his collar that tightens every time he fucks forward. Keeping him close and making  _ sure  _ that he keeps going, not letting his mind slip from the task at hand. His cock twitches.  _ Fuck, _ Daddy could make him do  _ anything  _ with a hand around his throat or curled under his collar.  _ Steve would crawl naked to Daddy, on his hands and knees, in front of millions if he was waiting with the leash to his collar and that look on his face.  _

Daddy kisses him fiercely. Directing him by the mean hold he has on his collar. Diving in, all consuming and messy. Steve can’t really help. All he can do is drool and keep his mouth open, he’s too overwhelmed and consumed by feelings and thoughts of continuing to thrust to do anything else. He’s rewarded with the sharply twitch of his fingers around his collar as his cock hits something particularly nice feeling inside of him. He keeps moving, trying to ignore the parts of him that want to beg and plead and cry for Daddy to talk to him and tell him he’s being good, that he’s doing good. 

Daddy bites at his lower lip and  _ snarls  _ at him, fucking his tongue into his mouth like he’s claiming him all over again, digging his nails into shoulder, making his nerves sing with the pain. He pulls harshly at his collar, cutting a gutted moan in half. He hopes he has bruises there too later. His neck, his shoulder, his hips- everywhere. He wants Daddy’s claim all over him, painting him like a cattle brand. His head swims, overfull and drowning. The slight lack of oxygen from Bucky’s hold on his collar doesn’t help but he can’t tell if it’s making it sweeter or not. He doesn’t know anything. He’s just fucking Daddy. That’s it. 

Steve tries to only think about thrusting in and pulling out, over and over again, because that’s what’s going to keep him fucking sort of sane but he can’t not overwhelm himself it seems. Because all he sees is Daddy’s heaving chest, all he hears is his groaning sounds of pleasure, and all he feels are his hips are pushing down as hard as they possibly can. Steve whines into his mouth, shivering, reveling in and cursing at the increase of pressure. The increase of heat. His eyes roll to the back of his head even though they’re already shut, even though he can barely take it- he wants more. His lungs scream for air while his lips hunger for more of Daddy’s taste. It’s perfect. It’s awful. 

Bucky is cumming on his cock. 

Daddy is moaning into his mouth while his release paints their stomachs. Keeping him where he wants him with his strength, his biceps bulging deliciously as one of his pecs twitch with the force, and the unforgiving hold of his fingers biting into his muscle or the leather. All of his sounds pouring into Steve through their connected mouths. It looks intense. It sounds intense. 

It feels intense for Steve. His cock is still choked but it’s also inside of Daddy as he cums. Wants Daddy to get lost in his own orgasm but selfishly he can’t do much to give him that serenity. He squeals. Twitching and shivering and sweating even more as he tries to not just hump into him with abandon until he gets his too. Daddy’s body feels like it’s  _ screaming  _ for it- locking down on his cock, muscles rippling, and trying to pull him in. 

But, no. 

_ This isn’t about him yet, _ he thinks, as more tears roll down his cheeks, as more sobs get punched from his overworked and overwhelmed body. All of his muscles are trembling with overuse, but he wants to please Daddy more than he wants to obey his own body, besides, most of the agony is in his head, his body was built to take more than this. So he pulls his body taunt. Tensing every muscle he can think of. Thinking intensely as he can about pulling every muscle taunt to distract himself, making himself believe that if he doesn’t think about it, it’s not going to happen. Barely scraping by, holding onto the edge while Daddy loses it below him. Digging his nails into the concrete of the cliff he’s hanging onto by a hair. Willing, easily, to split nails over following Daddy’s orders. He would go not to the ends of the earth for Daddy but to the end of hell and then beyond.

He clenches his jaw until his teeth and jaw ache just as much as his balls and cock and jealous hole do. He can feel Daddy’s muscles rippling around him more, trying to coax him to cum. He whines, high and thin and desperate. He’s going to cum  _ so fucking soon. _ He sobs, burying them in the junction of his shoulder and neck. Uselessly trying to control the unsatisfying twitches of his hips because he knows Daddy doesn’t like stimulation to his prostate after he’s cum but his body is too hungry to obey what he knows. He can’t think straight. He can’t do anything. Nothing at all. 

He just tells himself to keep his body as tight and in control as he can. 

Bucky lets go of his shoulder, panting. He lets his fingers relax from the hold on his collar too, and his head falls back onto the pillow of his cuffed together wrists under his head. Steve is so consumed in trying to keep himself in check and still that he doesn’t follow. It’s worth losing his body heat over though because it means he can see as he goes lax that it makes his throat arch mouthwateringly, revealing all of that open skin- Steve shivers, he knows for a fact that his neck is not as bare. Daddy’s skin is a gorgeous, flushed, pale gold. His post orgasm face alone has Steve aching and twitching and salivating to follow his lead. A siren call that he’s only barely not able to run to. The lax shape of his impish lips, the smooth line of his brows, the way his lashes kiss his high, flushed cheeks. Everything. His ignored but used cock twitches inside of his body. 

Steve stares down at him. His lip trembles, tears rolling, and breathes punching out of him. He has no idea what else to do than to look at Daddy and soak him in. It’s not often that Daddy cums so many times before him- it’s not often that Daddy is so fucked out when he’s still not even gotten his first. 

Still he’s warring with himself over if he should start begging now or suffer in silence. He knows that Daddy won’t forget about him. He always makes good on his promises. Every time. He won’t neglect him for long… but Steve doesn’t know if he can wait for that not long, long amount of time or not. He could cum right now if Bucky blinked open just one eye and tapped him, saying something as lazy as,  _ “your turn”  _ and then went straight back to doing nothing but laying under him. He would. He would explode inside of Daddy like there’s nothing else he knows how to do- which, right now, might be true. All he knows is sweet agony and the cure for those feelings. All he knows are the flames inside of his being that have become his being because he’s felt like this for so long that he can’t remember anything but this. 

Daddy shifts. 

Steve squeaks. Then he cries, squeezing his eyes shut and whining, he’s so sensitive. And Daddy’s so  _ tight.  _ Crushing his achy cock from every side. He tries to choke down more of those whole body shaking sobs but Daddy looks up at him and they slip out right along with a string of incomprehensible wanna-be words that are probably supposed to be  _ “please”  _ or something like that. But who the fuck knows. Steve does not. 

But Daddy does know. He always knows. 

_ “Out, _ Stevie, c’mon,” he says, the tone of his voice (beyond the rough gravel edge from his moaning) lets Steve know that he’s been trying to get him to hear him before but he was a little… caught up. In  _ other things.  _ Steve nods; his vision blurring to useless, watery smears as he does, the tears in his eyes do not help with his ability to see. He pulls his cock out of Daddy. 

And he  _ gasps.  _

Loud and desperate. 

Any tears that had been building and growing inside of his eyes spill over, drowning his cheeks in big enough numbers to put out the flames glutting themselves on his sensitive insides. He gasps again. Just as loud and desperate and needy and pathetically. He thought having Daddy’s tight hole around him made him even more achy… he did.    


It’s not the truth. 

Not having anything around his cock is so. Much. Worse. 

There is nothing to distract him from the skyscraper sized tsunamis of feelings inside of him. There is nothing to distract him from the rapid, frantic, desperate pounding of his own pulse through his tender cock. There is nothing to distract him from the near constant twitching of his cock that sends more and more and  _ more  _ shocks of pleasure and pain down to the very core of his soul- which keeps sending little babbles of whines or whimpers or gasps up through his chest. There is nothing that isn’t the aching of his own body. It consumes him.

So much so that he doesn’t feel it when Daddy moves him. He just finds himself sitting on top of Daddy and has to fill in the dots. Knowing that Daddy must’ve taken and moved his weight like he’s nothing but a paper doll. Daddy must’ve gotten his arms out from under his head, twisted around enough to find a pillow to replace the cradle of his cuffed wrists, situated that and then encircled his thighs with his hands. He had to have then tugged him up and up. Until he sat on his ribs. Then he must’ve put his hands up onto the top of the headboard, pulling out one of their ties from fucking somewhere to ensure that his hands stay where he put them. 

Steve doesn’t even have enough of his mind in working order to question Daddy. He just sits dumbly, staring down at Daddy and whimpering as much as he can with the sandpaper and razors in his throat. His cock twitches and leaks onto Daddy’s chest. Steve starts to sob again just at that little sight. His cock is purple and twitching with every pulse of his heart, so swollen and fattened. He can feel the thudding of Bucky’s heart in his chest and the swells of his breathing and it’s enough to get him swallowing his moans. It feels good. And it shouldn’t. He’s just the most fucking deprived and teased housewife in the existence of the universe. 

Daddy chuckles, his chest vibrating just a little with it. Steve would scream if he could. 

“You know what I’m gonna do with you now?” Daddy asks, looking up at him like a fox that’s just cornered it’s prey. He stares down at him, hypnotized by the wicked, delicious curve of his mouth. It doesn’t cross his mind. That he should nod. He just stares. Daddy clicks his tongue. Something like shame becomes the undercurrent of his need but it’s too strong, whatever it was is there and then gone. Swept away in the unforgiving tide. Daddy’s hand lands unkindly on his thigh. His own moan hits his ears before the original sound of the slap does. Stinging heat rings out through his body. 

“I know you’re not that bright, pretty,” Daddy grins, mocking. Steve’s cock twitches. Leaking generously into the pool on Bucky’s skin, “but I know there’s something still happening in that head of yours,” he reaches up to cup his cheek. His head spins. Daddy’s so nice- but so  _ mean.  _ It makes him ache impossibly more. His nipples are even tight and hot and pulsing, he’s so, so, sososososososo turned on.  _ “So,”  _ he drawls, “I’ll ask again, you know what I’m gonna do with you now?” 

Steve opens his mouth and tastes his own tears,  _ “nO!”  _ He chokes out. Daddy’s thumb rubs lazy circles on his cheek until it darts down to his collar, tugging him forward so fast that Steve would’ve let Bucky drag him face first into the solid wood of the headboard had his hand not stayed at his throat. Stopping his fall by using his own strength and digging his fingers into his throat. His vision swims with the lack of air and quick movement. His eyelids flutter. Daddy’s so  _ good- _

“You’re gonna fuck my pecs, sweetheart,” he growls. Steve moans, loud and drawn out. Going hoarse as the sound ends with the lack of oxygen in his lungs. “Yeah. I know how dumb seeing my tits make you. Turns you into goo, I know, but you gotta at least be able to hold yourself together if you want to cum.” Steve’s eyes fly open. He wants to cum more than  _ anything.  _

Bucky drags him down, getting their faces as close as he can without doing any damage to Steve’s shoulders. His hands still immobilized.  _ “You’re a fucking mess, slut.”  _ Daddy whispers into his lax mouth, breathing heavy and hot over his skin. Emphasizing the feel of his tears on his face and neck. Making him think for a second about how wrecked he must look with how wrecked his body and mind feel. 

He shivers, a little, helpless,  _ “please?” _ slips out of his raw throat. 

Daddy lets go of his collar but it doesn’t matter. The look in his eyes is just as effective as the hand around his throat. Keeping him in place. 

“Do you want the ring off now or after you have a chance to play a little?” There is nothing but care in Daddy’s tone this time. He’s not mocking or teasing. He wants to know.

_ “Wanna cum,” _ Steve mewls, shaking and still crying, crumbling under the amount of love in Bucky’s eyes. 

Bucky nods, scratching his fingers softly through his sweat soaked hair before getting his magnificently mismatched hands on his chest, one perfectly over his heart, and pushing him back. “Good,” he whispers, low and deep and toe-curlingly good, “good boy. You can get at it whenever, jus’ lemme get this off you first,” his metal hand stays splayed over his chest, keeping him sitting up and his organic hand slips down his body. 

It doesn’t hit Steve that anything is actually happening, actually moving forward, until Daddy’s fingers stroke feather-light over his cock (and even just that tiny touch makes his breath get caught in his throat, somewhere under his collar). Then his chest is heaving with his gasps and his mind is reeling, preparing him and knowing that he’s going to get to cum. His fingers meet the cock ring. He pulls-

Steve’s mind explodes in his fucking skull. A technicolor behind his painfully tightly squeezed shut eyelids. His breaths both get stuck going out of his lungs and get stuck coming into his mouth. He’s hyperventilating and suffocating. He’s drowning and burning. Flying and falling. He’s gasping and crying with the pain and the pleasure. His cock is dribbling so much pre-cum that he’s pretty sure he’s cumming. He might be cumming dry - lakes and rivers of pre-cum aside - with how fucking good it feels. His back is arching so much that he can feel the stretch of it through all of the pleasure violently washing over him, his toes are curling so hard that they pop. Their specifically reinforced headboard creaks ominously. 

Slowly, slowly, slowly the cacophony fades away. 

Allowing him to return to his tingling body. He feels anew. Like the top layer of his skin has been stripped away and has left him sensitive to every little feeling imaginable. Like when he had just stepped out of Howard’s machine with Erskine’s serum flooding his veins, enthralled with the biggest and tiniest things; how he could suddenly see colors he didn’t know existed before and how he felt even the smallest abrasions knit themselves back together with his healing factor. 

He’s crying and sweating and making sounds that are both supposed to be words and supposed to be little bursts of release because he can’t keep everything he’s feeling inside of himself or he’ll explode. 

Daddy’s holding his cock, cradling the base of him like the ring had. 

His hips tip forward without his mind telling them to, coming alive just to fuck Daddy’s fist. Chasing his long denied release. 

His cock  _ throbs  _ painfully, driving him past ecstasy. His balls throb just as much… but they feel so  _ swollen _ and  _ hot  _ and  _ tight  _ and  _ big _ in a way his cock doesn’t. He needs to cum or he might actually explode. Behind his balls his hole throbs as well, thrumming in time with the rest of him. Just as ignored as his cock but not quite as painful- it’s not like Daddy put a plug in him or anything but… Steve can’t even  _ think  _ about that right now. 

He fucks forward again, agony flaring and warring with his pleasure. He’s so so so so so sosososososososo close.  _ But he needs more.  _

Steve  _ sobs,  _ he  _ cries-  _ and there should be a fucking stronger word for the tears falling like a waterfall from his eyes and the gasps of not quite there breathes and drool spilling over his lips but all he can think of at the moment is  _ sob  _ even though that feels like an understatement. Daddy lets him fuck his fist for just one measly more stroke and then his uncurling his hand and bringing both of his hands to the sides of his chest. And again. Someone needs to fucking invent a better word for crying when you’re splitting at the fucking seams at the same fucking time because  _ sob  _ isn’t that. It’s not desperate enough. Steve chokes and sobs and trembles and tries to do something other than bathe in his screaming lust. He realizes that his cock is already between Daddy’s pecs when his brain slightly disconnects itself from the agony of being denied Daddy’s fist. Pleasure blinding him against that  _ little  _ fact until this fucking exact moment. Daddy’s strong hands shape his body around Steve’s throbbing, pulsing, spilling, aching cock. Pushing his pecs into a tight channel for him to fuck, his usually muscular chest turning into pillow soft looking tits when he does it. Steve drools. Literally. He feels it drip down his face just like his tears. 

Daddy growls something. It sounds like nothing but liquid sex to Steve’s deprived ears. 

He fucks forward. Humping into Daddy’s sweat-slick tits and moaning with everything he has inside of him. There is nothing to describe the pure heaven of getting to use Daddy’s body for his pleasure. His desperate, wrecked sounds don’t even touch the feeling. Nothing can touch the feeling. His strings come loose, being cut away as he crumbles, relying on the tie of his hands to the bed to keep him up. He cries. He screams and wails. 

His hips keep moving the whole time. He’s shivering and shaking and trembling and thrusting. 

There is no build up because there is no way he can go higher. 

He is just  _ there. _

He’s screaming until he can taste copper and his lips are so fucking wide open that his jaw twinges and aches, and his chest is going to explode with all of the hot, thick, lava pouring into him, taking up all of the space inside of his body. His balls throb so hard that he wants to double over and cradle them in his hands as he spills over Daddy’s tits, they feel so stretched and swollen with how long he’s had to wait to cum, he cannot imagine the truly excessive  _ mess  _ that he has to be making. His cock twitches and twitches and twitches with the force of his pleasure and it’s so erotic that it  _ burns.  _ He sees nothing but dangerously bright white- it doesn’t matter if his eyes are open or closed. He hears nothing but the echo of his own fucked out scream, ringing through his brain. His brain isn’t even mush or slush. It does not exist anymore. 

All that exists is the pure heat, the pure pleasure, and the pure rapture of his orgasm. Spilling out from his cock to his balls to his hole and then the rest of his body. 

Release is not a strong enough word for the feeling. There are no words for the feeling because he is slipping from consciousness with it, entering bliss. 

**Author's Note:**

> How was all this? Collars, cock cages, orgasm delay, cum play, fucking, and pec-fucking. I put some "edgier" shit in this so how do y'all like that?


End file.
